Sorry it's been a couple days. I tried to post earlier but the site apparently hated me for a day or so. We've made up and it allowed me to post this chapter. Yay. I hope you like it. Please let me know if you have any comments, questions, or feedback! Please R&R!
By the way, someone had commented that they didn't know Andrew was Asian. I realize now that Simon's father is Asian but I have absolutely no idea if Andrew is white or Asian or I just compelled my own version of Andrew in my fanfic. Please help me out if anyone does know! It's been bothering me and I couldn't find it in the book!
I let my head rest against the side door. I just needed a few minutes of rest. I was so tired. I felt someone shaking my left arm harshly. Owww! That hurt. I felt my eyes open and I saw a blur of colors. I heard a man speaking quickly and someone telling me to hold on. I was trying to but it was so hard. And eventually I gave myself up to the comforting darkness. At least there were no ghosts there. Hopefully.
I felt like I was in the dark, floating. It was so quiet and peaceful. I felt like I could finally rest. I was so tired of worrying or being scared. It was nice to just be. I felt a stab of pain. I hurt all over. My peaceful surrounding was interrupted by such loud voices. I had to pay attention so I could hear them.
"You have to help her!"
"I'm working on it!"
"She's been out cold for a half an hour! What if she doesn't wake up?!"
Among the voices I also heard sniffling and someone breathing harder, as if they wind was knocked out of them. I felt the same except I was having trouble catching my breath. It was like I had run too long and I was tired, queasy, and all around hurting.
I felt a sharp pain that was fresher than my current ache. It also hit my face instead of my arm where the real pain was emanating from. I felt myself make a sound full of pain. I felt my eyes open up a crack. The colors were blurred and I immediately shut them. I did not want to add throwing up to the list of things to do.
Someone was doing something to my arm. It felt like they were digging around for loose change. I started thrashing about and was instantly held down. I tried to open my eyes but instead couldn't I was so filled with pain. And I was tired. I screamed as something touched my arm.
"Give her a shot," said someone, "We have about thirty seconds from getting too much attention drawn to ourselves."
I heard the shuffling of objects and clinking before something cool was stuck in my arm and I succumbed to darkness in less than a minute. This darkness was less peaceful, calming and restful. It was uneasy and not natural. I felt an odd tired. But nonetheless I let it take me. I was so cold. I was just too tired – whether it was normal or not – to fight. Against anything.
I woke up warm. My mind was foggy and I couldn't really focus for several minutes. After looking around the room and finding it completely unfamiliar, I tried to sit up. Bad idea. I let out a loud hiss of pain as I realized the throbbing pain was all too real. It didn't help that my head was pounding in rhythm with my arm. The door cracked open and a man who I didn't recognize stepped in.
He must have seen the alarm on my face and held up his hands trying to calm me. "I'm with the Pack," he said. Well, that caused me more panic. He seemed to realize this and tried to think of something else to say. "You're friends are downstairs," he said with a small, worrisome smile, "We're eating breakfast, if you want to come downstairs."
He waited a second and I got up from the bed making sure not to use my left arm. I was a little unsteady on my feet and approached the man. He held out his hand. "I'm Nick," he said with a small smile, obviously trying not to scare me. I looked at his hand for a few seconds and knew he was thinking about dropping his hand when I put my hand in his and shook it lightly.
He motioned for me to go first down the hallway but I looked warily at him. I wasn't very trusting of people right now and having a werewolf who could certainly kill me with the snap of his fist didn't calm my nerves. He must have seen it on my face. He walked at a slow pace down the hallway with a quick motion of his hand asking me to follow him.
I stayed behind for a second before following. I figured after being shot I couldn't have anything worse happen. Technically that wasn't true but I was hungry and even though I didn't have werewolf senses I was sure I could smell bacon.
I followed Nick down the hallway and the stairs. He took me to the kitchen where I saw Tori, Simon, and Derek sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast. Derek looked up at me with an expression of relief and something else. Simon smiled up at me and looked like he was about to ask me something when Tori did something none of us expected.
She quickly got up from the table and flung her arms around me, enfolding me in a hug. My first reaction was shock. Tori, even when being civil, was never nice to me. My second reaction was that of pain. Tori was hurting me. It was just indirectly. The first time she does something vaguely nice, it has a bad end product. She was squeezing me around my upper left arm.
I made a hissing noise and pulled back. Tori pulled back with an actual look of sincerity on her face as she apologized. She pulled my right – and uninjured – arm, so that I was sitting down next to her. Simon and Derek were both looking at me like they wanted to say something. I looked out of the corner of my eye to see if my suspicions were right. They were. Everyone in the room was staring at me. I felt my face start to turn pink. I never did deal with attention well.
"Excuse me, but Chloe doesn't like it when people stare at her," said Tori to the whole room . . . of werewolves . . . and Simon. I felt myself turn slightly pinker. I couldn't stop the snort/chuckle that worked its way out of my mouth. Only Tori would order a room full of werewolves to stop looking at me. A room full of werewolves that could easily snap her neck. Meanwhile I had been shot. Again. With a real bullet. Derek had been stuck in a metal cage. And my entire life was turned upside down.
Derek looked at me like he had no idea why I had laughed but Simon smiled and let out a chuckle. Derek looked at Simon, "What's so funny?" Simon looked at me, hoping I'd explain.
"My life," I muttered and because of Derek's hearing he pinned me with his gaze till I spilled. Stupid Derek and his stupid truth telling gaze. "You do realize that in the past two weeks I've been kidnapped, escaped, run from the law, been shot twice, and am now staying with werewolves – mythical creatures that I'd thought didn't exist until two weeks ago. Or the fact that I can raise the dead. So yeah, my life is freaking hilarious."
It took a second and Tori started laughing rather hard and Simon just shook his head like he couldn't believe it either. I shot a look at Tori and she tried to get out what she was saying between laughs. "It's taken all that to finally get you to rant and even when you do, it's not mean. Do you ever get angry? I mean, seriously, it's healthy," she said with another laugh. Someone cleared their throat.
"Did you just say you'd been shot twice? This isn't the first time?" asked Nick who had been in the kitchen making a plate for himself that could reach the sky.
"If tranquilizers count," I said, "then, yes, I've been shot successfully twice. Apparently my reflexes suck."
"Paige is here," said Elena, unhitching herself from the wall she was leaning up against. I was using my deductive skills by saying that she was using her heightened senses. Elena walked to the front door, followed by Nick and a man that looked like him – probably his brother.
A short woman with a petite figure came in the front door and was greeted by the men. They talked in hushed voices, looking at us, until all six of them filtered into the library. We were alone. I looked back at Derek, Simon, and Tori, opening my mouth when Derek cut me off by putting his finger to his lips. He pointed to the library and then to his ear. The wolves could hear us. I guess we were acting under the suspicion that they weren't going to help us. It was quiet and I suddenly realized there were only four of us.
"Where's Andrew?" I asked. I figured that was a werewolf friendly question to ask. Derek answered me quickly.
"He's sleeping," he said. We ate quietly and as much as we could. It was the first meal that didn't have limits. About fifteen minutes later the adults filed out of the room. I didn't know if they knew it or not but they looked intimidating. It was like they had done this before, like they had a plan.
Jeremy took a seat across the table from all of us with a serious expression on his face. He looked like he was facing an inner battle. "We decided to help you out as much as we can," he said, "The Pack will do its best to help you to the best of our ability but we won't help you at the risk of our own."
I felt disheartened. Who would help us? I heard someone coming down the steps. Turning, I saw that it was Andrew. He seemed to catch the tail end of what Jeremy was saying. He had an angered expression on his face. "I'm surprised you wouldn't strive to help them," he said with strong emotion in his voice.
"Why wouldn't we do that?" asked Clay with an angered expression but Andrew didn't back down.
"Possibly because Derek is Pack," shot back.
"I think we'd know if he was Pack. Because to be Pack, you have to be fathered by someone already in the Pack or to be accepted and he hasn't been accepted." Clay said scathingly.
"Well, then maybe it's because he was fathered by someone in the back," stated Andrew.
"How the hell would you know?" asked Jeremy. All the men of the Pack were looking at each other and looking at Derek.
"His mother told me who his father was. And it was one of you."
I hope you liked it! Sorry about the cliff hangers! I'll update soon! I might even update sooner if I get a lot of feedback on the chapter!!!